


Ambition

by 24_centuries



Category: if.... (1968)
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-20
Updated: 2012-12-20
Packaged: 2017-11-21 19:33:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/601309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/24_centuries/pseuds/24_centuries
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>'Men strive for things, Robert. They strive, and they accomplish, and then they bask in their achievement, but only a little. Hubris sits well on no man's shoulders.'</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ambition

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CrunchySalad](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrunchySalad/gifts).



> Thank you so, so much to my beta, E. This story would still be on the floor crying in misery without her beyond-compare editing skills! Edited, but not Brit-picked. My apologies if anything is jarring.

“Hello, Phillips is it?”

Bobby looked up immediately at the hushed tone to find himself staring into the warm, dark eyes of his latest wank fodder. He immediately felt a flush break out across his skin, as he pictured that same face, under a cascade of water, making brief eye contact every time Bobby had the courage to look over. He cleared his throat, harshly, and replied, “Yes, uh, hello. Wallace.”

Wallace took the seat next to Bobby, sidled his chair right against Bobby's own, and leaned in.

“Saw you watching the other day. In the gym.”

“I wasn't!”

“'Course you were. Saw you, didn't I? I wasn't turning my head around to make sure Machin or Biles were watching, was I? Hmm?”

Gym. Right, not shower. Though, Bobby could argue that Wallace was staring right back at him as well. “Uh, no?”

“'Course I wasn't. Look, I could give you a hand, if you want.”

Bobby shifted slightly in his seat to try and hide his body's reaction to the unspoken suggestion. Finally, the interest was there on his part, after all the teasing from the other boys but he had to be firm, remain steadfast in his studies and not get caught up in any “foolishness the other boys might try,” according to his father. 

“I'm not a tart.”

Wallace's eyes widened considerably before responding, “Right. Thanks for that, but I don't see what that has to do with some gymnastics training.”

“Oh.” Bobby's flush was even deeper than before, and there was no way that Wallace was missing it, yet he hadn't said a word. “I, uh, that would be great. You were really something up there.”

“Thanks. I always like performing for an appreciative audience.” Wallace grinned, and moved in closer to Bobby. “So, tonight, after lights out? I can show you how to get a nice firm grip and how the proper follow-through is all you really need to complete a full set.”

Bobby stared, quite skeptically at Wallace, but nodded. He didn't seem like the other boys and definitely nothing like Denson, who undressed him with his long stares or Rowntree and Fortinbras, who openly talked about the things they wanted to do to him. 

“Fantastic! I'll see you tomorrow, right after tea.”

“Wha--tomorrow … during the day? Not at night?”

“Well, yes. How would I see if you have the right form or not? Wouldn't be much of a teacher if I went into this blind.”

“Right. Of course. Tomorrow after tea, during study hour.”

“I've cleared it with Mr. Thomas already, in case you said yes.”

“Oh. I'll, uh, see you tomorrow, then.”

“Righto. See you, Phillips.”

With that farewell, Wallace walked away and Bobby was left with a pool of arousal in his stomach and the fluttering of anticipation in his heart, as well as some confusion. Wallace had said tonight after lights out, hadn't he? Either way, Wallace didn't _seem_ like other boys, but in this case, Bobby wouldn't mind if he were. He loved his father, and hoped to one day grow up to be just like him, except living in the sunny States, as opposed to dreary and dull England. But Bobby just couldn't see what the harm would be in pursuing just one boy, and Wallace seemed worth it. 

*** 

Bobby showed up in the gymnasium right after tea, and saw Wallace on the bar again, soaring through the air as if he were a bird. This time, however, he was shirtless, and Bobby felt his face and entire body surge with fire at the sight. Wallace was strong, and lithe, and ...glistening. His muscles were all on display for Bobby, from his shirtless torso to his painted-on uniform trousers. Bobby didn't need his imagination to fill in the blanks for him as every inch of that glorious skin had been made privy to his eyes only a few short days ago.

I can _have_ that, Bobby thought. It was a thought he'd never had before because he'd honestly never encountered someone he wanted this much. Bobby knew what the other boys said about him and he knew what he saw in the mirror every day. He was attractive, in an effeminate fashion – which he was sure he would grow out of as none of the other men in the family were slight -- but he never saw that as an advantage before. Maybe Wallace liked boys that looked more like birds. Maybe it wasn't just Bobby reading into things in the library. Maybe … maybe Wallace could be a goal. Bobby liked setting up goals and achieving them. He had a whole notebook at home filled with goals sought after and achieved since the age of five, a Christmas present from his father and the backbone of his ascension into manhood. 

'Men strive for things, Robert. They strive, and they accomplish, and then they bask in their achievement, but only a little. Hubris sits well on no man's shoulders.'

Bobby mentally wrote 'Wallace' into said notebook before striding over to him with a newly discovered confidence. Wallace was hanging from the bar, mid-element. Upon seeing Bobby, he broke into a grin.

“There you are! Was wondering if you'd –” Wallace grunted as he swung himself back up and around one last time, before executing a perfect landing right in front of Bobby.

“Oh.” The word was exhaled from Bobby before his brain could even process words like “shirtless”, “proximity”, or “panting”. At this point, he wasn't sure which one of them was breathing harder. Wallace took a step back, and though Bobby was grateful for the space, he also felt the sudden absence in the pit of his stomach. All the confidence he had felt in walking over to Wallace was now gone.

“Do you mind?”

Bobby started. Had he been staring? Well, no. He knew he had been staring but had it been that obvious? He was about to apologize when Wallace cut his thoughts off mid-stream.

“Sorry, it's just Travis and Knightley and I were in here before and Travis spilled his contraband tea all over my jumper.”

“It's, uh, not a problem. I don't mind. Should I take mine off?”

Bobby thought he saw Wallace hesitate before answering.

“If you like. You don't have to. If you get warm, you can always take it off later.”

That, Bobby thought, is why I like him. Other boys had practically torn Bobby's jumper and shirt from his body when they were just “getting rowdy”. But Wallace didn't want that. Well, Bobby was pretty sure Wallace wanted _him_ but he didn't seem to want him like the rest of College House did. Wallace wanted to genuinely help him with gymnastics, which was nice, but it wasn't like he was Jute, so he didn't really need the practice, either. Which meant that Wallace just wanted to hang out, the two of them, alone.

While shirtless. 

Bobby remained in his jumper and went over to the chalk canister, liberally spreading the powder over his hands. They felt different with the chalk on them, which was odd as they never had felt different before – they were just hands after all – but now they felt like Wallace's hands might feel. The bar that Bobby was going to touch had just been touched by Wallace, the mat where he was standing and flexing his toes supported Wallace's toes … 

Bobby was snapped out of his reverie by Wallace's hands – large, strong, and capable – sliding onto his hips.

“Wh—what?”

“You're just standing there,” Wallace said, removing his hands. “I thought you might need some help up.”

“Oh. Right. Thank you. Yes.” 

'Get it together, Phillips.' Bobby shook his head. He needed to be able to focus on what Wallace was saying and doing without wanting to pull Wallace down to the mat and feel that strength hovering over him, slowly pressing along every inch of his ...

“Actually, Wallace, I think I might have a bit of a pulled muscle in my arm. Took a bad tackle in rugby earlier. I could just observe you while you have another go, if that's all right.”

Wallace stepped back, putting space between them. He rubbed his hand over the back of his neck and looked around the gym.

“I, uh, I'm pretty tired. I was doing that for awhile to, uh, blow off some steam.”

“Oh? Everything all right?”

“Yeah. Just sometimes need to do something physical to be able to think, you know?”

“Right. Well, we have the whole gym to ourselves. No one around. We can talk if you want. Help clear the mind and all that.”

“Yeah?” Wallace grinned a little, one corner tugging up a little more than the other. “Might as well know I asked you here for that, actually. Talking, that is. I just didn't really know how to ask. Figured the gymnastics was a good cover.”

“Oh. That – that's all right. Why, er, why did you want to talk?”

Wallace flushed a bright red and Bobby watched it travel from the tips of his ears all the way down his chest.

“I don't know. Just wanted to know – Hey! How's Denson? He better than Rowntree?”

“Yeah, he's fine. I mean, I guess. I can't really complain. He's uh – he's a Whip. All pretty much the same, yeah? Not too bad.”

“Don't worry about saying anything bad about him. I can't stand the tosser, and trust me, there are more people who despise them than idolise them.”

“He stares.” Bobby blurted out, immediately feeling stupid saying it aloud. Wallace just raised his eyebrows and inclined his head. “He – Rowntree – would always say things. He would criticise my clothes and insist they weren't to College House standards. He talked and teased and would sometimes touch a little too much but he was fine. I mean, in hindsight, he was fine.” Bobby rubbed the back of his neck, continuing when Wallace raised his eyebrows. “Better than Denson. Denson stares and he doesn't say anything. I shave him in the morning and he just looks up at me with this, uh, with this _look._ It's unnerving.”

Wallace waved a hand, dismissively.

“I don't think Whips are taught to socialize like the rest of us. They're taught that if they want something, they can take it. It's theirs. But, as far as I know, Denson has never had the full College House experience.”

At that, Bobby bit back a smile. 

“ – not that I've heard of at least, so I think you're safe. Staring is all he is likely to do, as unnerving as it might be. He's always been a bit bent but he'd be the last to admit it. Always goes on about how buggery is so juvenile. Stephans is like that, too. I tell him all the time that I'm going to massacre him one night. I don't think he takes me seriously, but sometimes I think he wants me to. Kind of makes me responsible and he's just the victim, right? In his head, at least. He's not bad if you look past the boggy face.”

“Oh. Uh, you think Stephans is …”

“No. God, no. So many better options here.” Wallace let his gaze fall squarely on Bobby. “I just want to have my fun here, yeah? Cheer on College House in games of rugger, follow Travis into ridiculous shenanigans, and have a few one offs before I have to go out and become Mr. Charles Reginald Wallace, III. In here, I'm Wallace, Wally, Wally-bum – if you're Knightley, and only if you're Knightley – and I can ignore everything waiting on the outside. For now.”

“Really? I can't wait for that life to begin. My father's been preparing me for it since I was in nappies." Bobby counted off his list of goals in his head, wondering for the first time if there might not be some wiggle room.

“Well, I guess we just have two different objectives while here.” Wallace grinned at Bobby as he flopped down on the mats and patted the space beside him. “This conversation is rubbish. I'd much rather talk rugby, wouldn't you?”

"Personally, I think Leconfield is sizing up our mettle by playing up their injuries, don't you?”

Bobby sank gratefully to the welcoming mat, thrilled to be able to finally follow that curling mouth on firmer ground.

*** 

Bobby slipped inside the armoury door and deflated a bit when he didn't see Wallace. 

Earlier in the day, College House had destroyed Leconfield House in the first rugby match of the term, and Bobby had watched it all at Wallace's side. During their time in the gymnasium, the two of them had discovered they shared an unholy love of rugger and had decided to see the match together. Bobby was even more pleased to see that neither Travis nor Knightley were accompanying them to the pitch.

“They buggered off to Town for the day. Probably off to see some tarts.”

“You didn't want to go?”

Wallace smiled at Bobby as he pulled him into his side. “Not at all. Much better things to be had right here.”

So they had watched the match and cheered on College House and celebrated with everyone else when they won. Wallace asked him if he would slip out after lights out and Bobby, already feeling the thrill of adrenaline at the mere thought of breaking such a cardinal rule, immediately agreed. 

Now here he was, standing alone in the dark, wishing he had triple checked the time with Wallace. Did he even say tonight was the night? 

Just as he was working himself up to leave, Wallace walked in through the back door.

“Hello, Bobby. Have you been here long?” Bobby blinked at the form in the doorway. 

“No, just arrived. Thought I got the day wrong when I didn't see you here.” Stupid, he immediately thought. Don't _tell_ him that!

“Right, sorry.” Wallace ambled toward him, his voice dropping as he drew closer. “I was just making sure I didn't run into Fortinbras or Denson. Would hate to have the night spoiled before it began. Fag?”

Wallace handed it at Bobby's nod and sat down on a crate. 

“So, you think we'll do as well next week against Hazelwell House?”

“I don't know. Haven't had much time off from studies to sneak off and watch them practice.”

“Sneaking around, are you? You're a right cheeky one.”

“'Always assess the competition's strengths and weaknesses before attacking. This will lead to our greatest success and their worst defeat.'”

“I assume by the change in your voice that you're quoting someone, yeah?”

“My father,” Bobby sniffed proudly. “He seems to have a guiding phrase for every instance in life.”

“Oh? And what would Phillips the elder say about meeting a Senior in the armoury after dark?”

Bobby paused, seriously considering the question. His father wouldn't be pleased – less so if they were caught out here. He had warned Bobby no fewer than once a day for the last month he had been at home about what was expected from him while here and what was completely off limits. This was definitely in the latter category. There would be certain repercussions to Bobby being found, most of them leaving Bobby 'resting up' in bed for a few days. 

“He … wouldn't be pleased.”

Wallace paused, seeming to have read Bobby's thoughts.

“Well, then I suppose we'll have to be on high alert.”

Bobby offered a grin in thanks. 

“So, what is it that the future great Mr. Charles Reginald Wallace the Third will be doing upon completion of his studies this year?”

“It's not something I've given much thought, to be honest. What about you?”

“Not given much – oh, Wallace. You can't follow Travis and Knightley around forever, you know. I am going to be a solicitor and follow right in my father's footsteps.” Bobby couldn't help but puff up a little with pride. The man was hard on him, but he had made Bobby into the man he was becoming – the man he would become – and no matter how strict he could be with his discipline, Bobby loved and admired the man.

“Have a spot waiting for you at the ol' firm, does he?”

“Well, yes. Probably. But I want to leave for the States as soon as I can, after all the years of my schooling are completed.”

“Is that right?”

“Oh yes. If I pass all the tests, I'm definitely going to California. I'm going to be a criminal lawyer. Of course, it takes about twenty years, all together.”

“We'll all be dead by then!” Wallace laughed as he took in Bobby's stern countenance.

“Well, I believe in having a goal. That way, you succeed. Actually, that's your trouble. You have no ambition.”

“Oh, I know.” Wallace shrugged. “Is your mum coming for Founder's Day?” 

Bobby quickly realized that he had talked at length about his father the other day, but had only mentioned his mother in passing.

“Yes. She's bringing her new husband. My new dad.”

“What's he like?”

“Actually, I don't think they're married. I don't care. I don't mind at all about that sort of thing. I shouldn't mind, should I?”

“No. Oh, hell, I don't know.” Wallace tipped his head to the side as he heard footsteps approaching. “Quick! Out the back!”

 

Bobby scrambled through the back door, but was terrified to move. What if there were more than one Whip and they were just waiting to catch him? What if Denson were out and caught him with Wallace? Would he go right to the Headmaster – or worse, the Chaplain – and lie about what they had been doing? Bobby couldn't help but flush as his brain supplied all the things they _could_ have been doing. He was just starting to creep along the wall to peek behind it when Wallace emerged from the building. He startled upon seeing Bobby still standing there.

“Christ! Nearly gave me a heart attack. You all right?”

“Yeah. Didn't want to get caught and I kind of froze up a bit.”

“Don't worry. I took care of it. It was just Denson, anyway. Nothing I couldn't handle.”

“Thank you, for that. For handling it. I –”

Wallace gently touched two of his fingers to Bobby's lips. 

“You don't have to thank me, Bobby. I would've done it no matter what the punishment.”

Bobby realized just how close they were: Wallace practically looming over him, with his soft fingertips softly brushing his lips. Bobby couldn't help the slight pursing of his lips as he gave the slightest, chaste kiss to those fingers, wanting desperately to pull them inside his mouth and taste his friend at last.

Wallace went still at the kiss, before gently brushing his fingers back and forth along Bobby's bottom lip. Bobby wanted to stare up at him, lock eyes and challenge him to _do_ something, but something was building up inside of him and it was too much. He closed his eyes and tilted his head up as Wallace caressed his skin with just his fingertips, starting over the sensitized flesh of his lips and moving slowly up the curve of his cheekbone, tracing his way over to Bobby's ear, which felt as electric as the touch had felt on his lips. Bobby's mouth opened, minutely, and he couldn't help the harshness of his breathing – the rapidity and almost panting quality of it. He opened his eyes as he felt fingers tuck his hair back behind his ear – a move Bobby absently did many times over the course of the day but which had never felt so different. 

Wallace cupped Bobby's jaw in his left hand and, eyes locked the entire time, slowly lowered his head and brushed his lips against Bobby's. Fire raced from Bobby's lips down into his rapidly filling cock and up to his stomach in a never-ending cycle. Bobby was dizzy with want, needing to pull Wallace closer just so he didn't collapse but afraid of his reaction if he knew what this little bit of contact was doing to Bobby. 

It didn't matter, because in the next moment they both froze as they heard Denson yelling to Barnes across the grounds. Wallace pressed Bobby back against the building with his own solid frame, plunging them both into darkness. Bobby's body arched into Wallace's firm strength, rutting twice against his will before burying his face in Wallace's chest, mortified. Wallace just ran one hand through Bobby's hair, quieting him.

“It's all right, Bobby. It's fine. I shouldn't have – well, I did. I'm sorry.” Wallace whispered this directly into his ear, underestimating just how sensitive every inch of Bobby's skin was at that moment – let alone to hot air against his ear. He bucked twice more and prayed as hard as he could for the ground to open up and swallow him whole so he wouldn't have to look at Wallace after this.

“'m sorry. So sorry. I can't – sorry, Wallace. So sorry.”

Wallace quieted him again and kept stroking his hand through his hair. After what felt like forever to Bobby, but was probably only a few minutes, Wallace pulled back and looked at him.

“We have to get back to our rooms before they come back, Bobby.” Wallace was running his hands up and down Bobby's arms, attempting to comfort him. For what, Bobby honestly didn't know.

“I'm sorry about this, Bobby. I really didn't mean to let this get out of hand. I know how much of a risk this is for you.”

“'s fine, Wallace. It's – _I'm_ sorry. You shouldn't be. I didn't mean to get all – I'm sure you don't want a kid getting his rocks off on you.”

“That's …I want that more than I can tell you, Bobby. I don't see you as a kid, really. You have it more together than Mick, Johnny, and me all put together. I just shouldn't have taken advantage ...”

“You didn't, Wallace. Truly.”

“Oh. Well that's, uh, good, yeah?” Wallace leaned back in and pressed a final, firm kiss to Bobby's lips before stepping back. Bobby couldn't help but be pleased at the light flush he could just make out in the dim light. 

“I think we can just make it back before Rowntree gets to the Juniors' dorm."

***

Bobby woke suddenly to a hand on his shoulder shaking him. He internally sighed. He could only imagine what Denson wanted at this hour of the night. He squinted his eyes open to find not Denson but Wallace hovering over him. Bobby shot upright in bed, eyes wide, not completely convinced that he was truly awake. 

“What are you doing here?” Bobby's whispered breath felt like a shout in the hollow quiet of the dorm and his pulse quickened as adrenaline reached a fever pitch. 

“Came to see you. Budge over a bit, yeah?”

“What? You can't be here. If Machin wakes up --”

“Bobby, please.”

Wallace's voice was pitched low, lower than it needed to be, and he sounded almost like he was pleading. Bobby swallowed any future protest and nodded, unsure if the catch in his chest was alarm or arousal. Bobby thought back to earlier in the night, when he had listened to the caning he knew was being delivered to Wallace and his friends. Denson had practically been gloating about it earlier, but he had kept Bobby at his side so he didn't have a chance to warn Wallace. 

Wallace grimaced a bit as he climbed into bed, but he put his right arm around Bobby and pulled him in even tighter.

“I was thinking about what you said, about not having ambition.” Wallace was speaking so low that Bobby felt like he was sensing the words, rather than hearing them. He didn't know it was possible to be that quiet.

“We don't need to talk about that right now, Wallace.”

“No, no, it's important and I need to tell you. See, I don't really think about my future much. It's something that was decided upon as soon as my parents found out they were having another son. My brother, William, he'll take over my father's business, being the first born and all. My sister was engaged almost as soon as she turned sixteen, though of course she was only just married this past summer. But me? I'm an Army man. Have been since birth. My father wants me to do well here but he's also stressed that I need to get out any 'boyhood proclivities' because they don't tolerate that kind of thing in the Army.”

Bobby paused, waiting for Wallace to continue, but upon his silence, he couldn't help but voice the burning question on his mind. He tried to match Wallace's tone: “Do you _want_ to go into the Army?”

“I – I don't know. Christ, no one's ever asked me that. Not even Johnny. I guess so. I mean, it's what I've always been told I would do. I've had extensive training for it during my summers so it has just become this eventuality for me, yeah? I just put it out of my mind and it's like the end game for me. I'll finish school and go right into the Army. Makes it easier to focus on trivial things like my thinning hair and Travis and Knightley's shenanigans. I can really _live_ while I'm here, even with all the regulations.”

“You know, Wallace, it isn't war time any more. It's the 60s. You don't _have_ to go into the Army just because your parents tell you so.”

“Right, but I'm the second son, you know. That means something to the Wallace family. There's no such thing as being proud of a second son, unless he makes a name of himself in some branch of the military. In this case, the Army. Had I been my Uncle's son, I'd be signing up for the RAF. It's just … how it is.” 

Bobby thought this over for a bit and had an idea. A terrible, impossible idea, but one that was bubbling out of him. 

“You could come with me?” Bobby had barely whispered it when Wallace's head whipped to the side, their noses colliding. 

“What?”

“I mean, to the States. If you wanted. Not, _with_ me. Not if you don't want. Or you could even go ahead of me and I could join you. I still have a few years here. It could – it could be good for you.”

“You'd want that?”

“I … yeah. I mean, if you – would you?”

“I don't really know how I would do that. I have no money of my own. My mother always said she'd put aside some spending money for me for when I go on leave, but I doubt that's enough to fly across the pond and settle in the great beyond.”

“Well, I could give you the money. A loan, until you settle yourself in and find a job proper. My mother and father are always throwing money at me to show who loves me more.”

“Bobby, I couldn't. I – you can't just fund me running away from home.”

“But you're not! You're – ” 

Wallace slapped his hand over Bobby's mouth, looking sharply over at Machin's bed. He widened his eyes considerably before sliding his hand off Bobby's mouth. 

Bobby took a breath and continued in the same hushed tone he was using originally.

“I just mean that you would be running toward a life. A whole new set of options that you'd never considered. It would be good for you, I think.”

“You just want to have someone you know over there so the Yanks don't terrorize you too much.”

Bobby returned Wallace's grin as he tucked himself closer to him, pulling Wallace's arm tighter around his shoulders.

“Just something to think about, I guess.”

“Yeah. Yeah it is. Thanks, Bobby.”

“Mmm.”

Bobby drifted back to sleep with Wallace's fingers gliding soothingly up and down his arm. If he weren't so exhausted from the day's studying, he would probably be too keyed up to sleep, what with Wallace in his bed. As it were, he drifted off quite quickly and hoped they woke up before Machin rose.

*** 

Wallace stayed awake that night, enjoying just how _right_ Bobby felt in his arms. He had been hesitant to pursue him, knowing how everyone else treated the boy, but had found himself completely drawn to him. He was surprised to find such a mature young man hidden behind the angelic outer beauty. 

He turned Bobby's plan over and over in his head. He had come here tonight because he wasn't sure what would happen after tomorrow. Travis insisting on using the real bullets could get them tossed out, even if it's just a stupid prank, and he might not see Bobby again after tonight. It was very important to him that he tell Bobby why he didn't think about his own future. He didn't like the idea of leaving and having Bobby think he was just some vapid person, devoid of any substance or forward-thinking. The future to him had just never seemed all that important, knowing what was in store for him.

But there was California. 

Even the word filled Wallace with delight. It was so strange and just rolled off Bobby's tongue so naturally. Bobby had probably been planning his escape to the States since he was in nappies, but this new idea that Wallace could go too, that he could find a new life out there, it was more than a little intriguing. He had honestly never thought of just moving away -- leaving his family behind and letting their expectations of him rot away in jolly ol' England. He could put an entire ocean and an entire continent between them, so that their disappointment became only a whisper.

But he would have Bobby, give or take a few years, if he still wanted him after tomorrow. They could build a life together over there. America was in the midst of a sexual revolution. Surely Bobby and Wallace wouldn't be out of place if they were to shack up together. Surely.

Wallace turned to Bobby, placing a gentle kiss on the the top of his head. The mind inside that head could take over the world before tea time, he thought. He knew he would be a fool to abandon such a person. 

Wallace settled in and drifted, finally, to sleep, with nothing but thoughts of he and Bobby in sunny California, making a life of their own. He couldn't wait for Bobby to wake up.

**Author's Note:**

> There are about ten lines of dialogue in the armoury scene lifted entirely from the movie. They are not mine and I am not trying to take credit for them.


End file.
